


3 Months

by OrganicLunchbox



Category: Larry Stylinson - Fandom, One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Angst, Break Up, Fluff, Happy Ending, M/M, Marriage Proposal, One Shot, larry stylinson - Freeform, larry stylinson one shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-15
Updated: 2016-06-15
Packaged: 2018-07-15 04:57:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,157
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7208669
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OrganicLunchbox/pseuds/OrganicLunchbox
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>3 months. That's 12 weeks. 91 days. 2,191 hours. 131,487 minutes. 7,889,238 seconds. 3 months ago, Harry Styles proposed to Louis Tomlinson. 3 months ago, that same couple ended their relationship. A life captivated with commitment issues allowed a moment that had been planned for years develop into a argument with no solution. Louis deals with the break up as he always does, works and swallows his emotions. Harry on the other hand, drinks.</p>
            </blockquote>





	3 Months

The sound of a door slamming awakes Louis from his slumber. His eyes are welcomed to sunlight that radiantly exposed his living room from the window. He curses to himself silently as he forgot to shut the curtains from the night before. Most of the time, his Saturday nights are so exhausting that he hardly remembers to take off his shoes before bed. With a sigh, he sits himself up and rubs his tired, irritated eyes. His aching back reminds him that he's on the couch.

He's aware of his appearance as he climbs off of the couch. He knows the dark circles under his puffy eyes are prominent, his warm, dark honey hair is ruffled in different directions, and his shirt is stained with whatever drink Harry had spilled on him as they exited the bar.

Harry. His heart squeezes unsettingly as he recollects his reality. The door to what used to be their shared bedroom is opened which means Harry is gone and has left to wherever he's hidden himself to for the past three months. He slowly opens the door wider to see the messy, unmade bed from where Harry once was before.

It's been three months since Louis had broken up with Harry. 12 Saturdays that have always been the same since that night Harry proposed. Louis had always feared commitment ever since his father left his Mum of 5 children when he was 10. It was his nature. He never stuck to one gym for he feared being tied down to a membership, he never made plans that extended 3 months, and he always was prepared for cancellations. That's why when Harry Styles entered his life 4 years ago, Louis was terrified to death.

From the beginning of their relationship, Harry had shown signs of commitment. Louis never understood how someone could freely make plans that advanced in a year and actually stick with them. There was one time when Harry had mentioned to Louis about a music festival he had wanted to bring Louis to. It was a shock to Louis when out of the blue months later, Harry had placed a ticket for Louis in his hand

Of course Louis loved Harry. He'd never knew it was possible to feel such burning passion for someone in his entire life. The moment he saw Harry he knew he was the only person in the world he wanted to grow old with...and that terrified him. So the moment Harry knelt to the ground in the kitchen of their newly shared apartment, Louis declined without hesitation in a fearful panic. That resulted in hours upon hours of fighting with no resolvement. Harry left to a location that still to this day, Louis has no idea

To nurture himself, Louis did what his usual treatment was- bottled everything in and made himself busy with work. Harry on the other hand, was the complete opposite. Every Saturday night, Harry would loose himself in the crowed of "Pulsations" night club- the same club Louis worked at. As Louis prepared drinks at the bar, Harry danced with whoever he could get his hands on before making his way over to the bar. He made sure to sit in the same spot where he would get so frustrated and snarky with Louis before getting so intoxicated, he could hardly stand. This always resulted in Harry crying to Louis until Louis' shift was over. Of course, Louis had to take care of Harry. He supported Harry as he walked him to his car before he drove them to the only place he knew Harry would be safe in, their apartment. He cleaned Harry up, put him to bed, and then allowed himself to fall onto the couch and sleep. The next morning, Harry would leave before Louis could greet him and he would never hear from him until the next Saturday night.

That brought Louis back where he was now. Standing in the empty bedroom that smelled of Harry and the drunk night before. Louis allows a sigh to escape from his lips as he checks the bed sheets for signs of vomit. Usually Harry always releases his stomach content in the parking lot of the night club, but it was always something Louis checked. And just as he's done for the past Sunday mornings, he remakes his bed and collects his room again as nothings ever happened.

**

It's 10 pm when Louis spots Harry in the crowd on the thirteenth Saturday. He's got his large hands wrapped around a thin girl's bare hips that were exposed from her short shirt. Harry is biting her neck as her hips move in sync with his against the loud beat of the techno music. Louis pours a margarita into a glass before handing it to a customer, trying to return his focus back to his work. It was still early in the night which meant it was the busiest. It wouldn't be for another 3 hours before Harry would come over and begin drinking.

Louis works quick to make drinks for customers. Many of them young adults who sport red faces and frizzy hair from how warm and crowded the club was. Each customer was different. Many were nice, some were rude, and others were just there to either get drunk or lucky. It wasn't his ideal job between the late hours, the stench of drunk, sweaty adults mixed with alcohol and greasy food, and the occasional annoying drunk customer, but the busy Saturday nights help him afford living in the apartment by himself.

Though he is busy, he always tries to make sure he can keep an eye on Harry. Most of the time is difficult and Harry usually buries himself in the center of the crowd, but it doesn't stop Louis from looking out for him. Sometimes he'll see Harry venture to the bathroom or stop and grab a bottle of water from anywhere but Louis' side of the bar. The one thing Louis is always grateful of is that Harry never leaves the club with anyone but Louis no matter how hot and heavy their dance session is. 

It stings Louis' heart every time he does see Harry dancing with someone. He knows it isn't Hard for the curly hair boy to find someone to dance with- male or female- because Harry was the definition of gorgeous. His deep set of cheekbones lie right under his emerald green eyes that are framed with the longest set of eyelashes. His jawline is broad just like his toned muscles and his long, curly chestnut hair rest at the length of them. Harry is the perfect person in Louis' eyes and he feels the mistake he's made every time he sets eyes on the tall boy.

Before Louis realizes it, Harry has sat down in his usual seat. Directly in front of where Louis prepares drinks. He turns to meet his eyes, dark and wild- Louis knows he hasn't had a proper sleep since last time he saw him. He grabs a freshly polished glass, "Hey, Haz." He says over the loud music.

He is returned with a scowl as Louis pours Harry's usual. Straight bourbon. At first, it was a surprise to Louis that Harry chose bourbon. Harry had always been a fruity drinker, loving strawberry daiquiri's or blueberry wines. "Told you not to call me that," Harry's voice is deep as his eyes watch Louis' small hands slide him the small cup. He takes it with his right hand and takes a few sips, wincing at the bitterness. Harry's cheeks are flushed and his forehead shines from the sweat under the colorful lighting.

"Sorry," Louis begins as he prepares a brew for a customer. He always wants to ask Harry why he does this- act as if Louis is the scum of the earth and just breathing the same air as him is worse than any hell Harry can imagine yet still remain seated at the bar for hours. There are about 200 other seats in the night club, yet Harry always chooses that one.

"What you should be sorry for is spending 4 years of your life planning a future with me and then when I propose, you freak out." Harry says when he glass is finally empty.

Louis sighs and pours more into the glass as he looks down, pouring amber beer into a tall glass, "Harry, I made an unforgiving mistake." Louis says after a while, not looking at Harry as he speaks. Louis knows that if he looks at Harry, he will begin to cry. He doesn't have time or energy to cry, he needs to make money. "Besides, I don't think you should really be drinking so fast." Louis says as Harry finishes yet another glass of liver killer. 

"Why's that?"

Louis bites the inside of his cheek but takes the empty cup and refills it, hating himself for it. "Because, there's better ways to handle this." he says softly. Their hands touch as Louis passes Harry the drink and there's almost an overwhelming sense of comfort in it. Harry is quick to pull his drink away in disgust.

"I figured you would know. You're completely fine- hey, what's your secret?" He says sarcastically, rudeness dripping with each word. "I wonder why that is."

Louis' cheeks are red as he refills drinks of others, "Harry, if you wanted to talk about it, this isn't the place."

"I'm here to get drunk," Harry says deeply. "You didn't have to say hello to me."

Sighing, Louis knows there is nothing he can do right in Harry's eyes for the moment so he decides to stay quiet. They don't speak after that. That rarely do when Harry is sober. Louis continues to make drinks and Harry proceeds to drink them. An hour passes by quickly as Louis' shift was coming to an end. He would make sure that his section was clean and prepped for the next bartender that shift started around 3. Louis was thankful that the DJ had been taking the crowds attention away from drinking so he could focus on polishing glasses.

Harry was now polar opposite. His head is hanging low as his large body is slumped against the counter of the bar. Harry at this point was sobbing into his forearm quite loudly which causes Louis to bite his bottom lip. He sets down the glass in his hand and reaches over, placing both of his on top of his arms, "You alright?" He asks, already knowing the answer.

"H-how can I be alright?" Harry weeps unsteadily into his arm. Louis presses his lips together as he sadly watches the weeping monstrosity that he created. The sight itself was depressing and created a lot of attention. Harry was already a head turner. He stood up to 6'3 with broad, defined features. Not only was his extremely attractive, but he was massive. So to see a massive man hysterical at a bar was something the public found to be suddenly more entertaining than the best DJ in all of London. 

Louis thanks whoever runs the universe when the new bartender arrives for his shift. Louis offers his co-worker a friendly pat on the back as he makes his way towards the back of the bar where he can collect his things and clock out for the night. By now, many of the workers are aware of the weeping man against the counter- by 13 Saturdays, you eventually catch on. 

Louis returns on the other side of the bar now with an extra large jacket, one that Harry hadn't taken with him when he left previously. Louis' now gotten extremely talented at handling Harry. Louis sets his tiny hand on the small of Harry's back, a ginger hello to warn him that he was there, much like you would do to greet a horse (Louis found in this that Harry really was just a miniature horse. 

"Louis," Harry wails as he turns his body away from the counter and allows his torso and long arms to collapse into Louis. It was one of those rare moments when Louis and Harry were the same height as Harry was seated on a stool. Thankfully, Louis was quick enough to catch him. His cheeks redden at the eyes placed upon them, watching the much smaller Louis support the larger, crying man. 

"Harry, c'mon. Gotta get you to bed," Louis whispers into Harry's ear. He wished he could truly enjoy this moment of holding Harry without the publicity. He sends a glare that meets the eyes of his audience, "piss off! Nothing to see here!" He spits as Harry stands up. Louis attempts to put the jacket on Harry but it just ends up around Harry's shoulders instead. 

"Where are we going, Lou?" Harry only uses that nickname when he's intoxicated now. It would make Louis smile if it wasn't under these circumstances. He grunts softly as he begins to lead Harry out of the club, forcing his way through the dense crowd. 

"Home." Is all he says.

The walk to the car is repetitive to the usual Saturday nights- the movement in Harry's extremely drunk body causes him to vomit on the parking lot (he usually does it feet within a trash can), Louis proceeds to strangle Harry into the passenger seat as he wipes the vomit from his lips with some spare napkins he always keeps in his dashboard, and then proceeds to remind him that he isn't going anywhere. 

"Louis, what do you think the stars our made of?" Harry speaks after a long time of silence in the car. Harry had been dozing off moments before. 

Shrugging his shoulders, Louis replies, "Not sure."

"Want to know what I think?" Harry asks. He doesn't hesitate for an answer. "I believe that the atoms that make up stars are the atoms that make someone, like their soul. Like, after someone dies...they're a star." His words are slow and he forms his words as if his tongue is too big for his mouth. 

"That's a nice way to think about it."

"I believe that in a long...long time, you and I's stars will be right next to each others." Harry is whispering now, eyes focusing on his hands that he keeps fiddling with in his lap. "You and me, Lou, our souls...are made from the same atom...so you know it's our destiny to be nothing but glowing rocks that float together in the universe for eternity."

Louis swallowed hard, his throat dry as tears welding up into his eyes. He can't find the words to form to the sadness he feels. It's almost like a tsunami of sorrow floods every ounce of his body, maximizing every space that he even feels it in his fingertips. 

There's another silence once more when Louis doesn't respond. Instead, he feels Harry reach over and grabs Louis' closest one that gripped the steering wheel. Louis doesn't object when Harry pulls it close to him, locking it with his own and setting it in his lap. His hands are warm and familiar which is a big reason why Louis doesn't reject. 2 minutes later, Harry is asleep in the passenger seat.

It always takes a lot out of Louis to wake Harry. It was the only time in the past 3 months that he actually looked peaceful. Cupping his cheek as he places his thumbs near his closed eyelashes, each long hair delicately placed perfectly, as if god took extra time to sculpt Harry when he was created. Louis always wondered how such a perfect person landed into his life. From the moment he met Harry, he wondered how it was possible for someone to be so beautiful. Though he looks much different now than he did four years ago, Louis still finds Harry to be even more breath taking as each day passes.

Eventually, Louis does wake Harry. Upon being disrupted from the only peace he has, he begins to weep in protest, crying out that Louis is going to leave him. It takes 15 minutes for Louis to get Harry to the third floor of the apartment. He sits Harry on the bed and kneels down to unzip his brown boots that he always wear. Louis always used to make fun of him for them even though he secretly admired them. 

"You're gonna sleep with me tonight, right Lou?" Harry mumbles as he's hunched over, rubbing his eyes as he watches the smaller boy place the shoes neatly against the wall. "Because you know I can't sleep without you."

Harry isn't lying when he says that. Louis knows the only decent sleep he gets now is his regular Saturday nights. "Maybe." Is always his answer. He peels the shirt Harry is wearing off of his body, grabbing a tissue from the night stand to wipe Harry's wet cheeks before folding it and placing it neatly on the dresser beside them. 

"Did you remember to check on the dog?" He says with a sleepy smile. He isn't crying anymore because his thoughts are bringing him back to the their nights 4 months ago. Checking on the dog was an inside joke between them. Years ago, Louis had dog watched their neighbors young dog for a few days. There was a night when Louis had completely forgot about the pup and while he slept, the mutt destroyed his living room. Harry used to tease him about it until it finally became their night time saying. It was humor they both understood. 

Louis offers a sad smile, "Yes, Harry. I checked on the dog." he says with a sigh. He hesitates as he looks into Harry's glassy eyes, red and irritated from crying. He has to reach up and brush another stray tear away before biting his bottom lip. How many more Saturdays can he take before he loses it?

"Come to bed," Harry says quietly, his tone different. Maybe it was Louis' exhaustion getting to him but the words formed from a sober mine. It was the soft tone Harry used when Louis would fall asleep on the couch. The words sent chills down Louis' spine and he looks away. 

"Get settled in, I'll be there shortly." He lies. He has to do whatever it takes to get Harry into bed. 

"Not without you." 

Defeated, Louis knows the only way to soothe Harry is if he also lies beside him. He nods and stands up, signally Harry to move into position. Harry does so, stumbling a bit as he places his head on a pillow and moves his arms slowly to cover himself with a blanket.

Louis slides his own shoes off before climbing into bed with Harry. He pushes himself close as Harry finds Louis' torso, hiding his face into Louis' neck. More chills rush down Louis' spine as he feels Harry's heavy breaths against his skin. He knows he's returned to crying. 

Harry's body is shaking with each quick and shallow breaths against Louis and with each breath, it breaks Louis' heart even more. As much as he knows this is both of their dirty, secret drug, it's unhealthy and needs to be finished. This weekend must be the last, Louis thought to himself.

Tomorrow, he'll make sure he catches Harry before he leaves tomorrow. As Louis rubs Harry's back with his free hand, he thinks about what he'll say to Harry tomorrow. His stomach tightens as he feels nerves flood through his body. Tomorrow will either go one of many ways. 

1\. A loud argument from a hungover, angry Harry

2\. The hungover Harry will begin to weep uncontrollably

3\. Nothing, dumbass Louis will end up oversleeping.

4\. Harry ignores him and doesn't ever return to the bar again.

The thirteenth Saturday ends a bit different than the others. While analyzing the possibilities, Louis falls asleep in Harry's arms for the first time in 91 days. 

**

The end result is 1. 

Sometime around 10 AM, Louis is awoken by a shift in the bed. He's now laying on his back, eyes looking up at the ceiling as he hears the deep, groggy morning voice that was so familiar. 

"What the fuck?" Harry whispers into his hands as he sits up. Louis follows behind him, sitting up and turning to look at Harry. The knots in his stomach make themselves present as he bites his bottom lip, eyes burning into Harry's bare back. 

"Harry-"

"Stop," He says, his head hanging into the palms of his hands. "Just- fuck, give me a minute." Louis knows Harry's going to half to nurse this migraine all day. He sighs and nervously folds his hands in his lap, looking down at them. 

"Let me make you something to eat, yeah? So you can get some medicine in you?" Louis finally offers after Harry hasn't moved for a while. Harry doesn't decline nor accept, infact, he doesn't say anything at all. Louis sighs once more, knowing he's embarrassed Harry. 

The only sound then is the rustling of the sheets as Louis pulls them off of him. He gets out of bed, trying to be as neat and small as possible before exiting the bedroom, leaving the door open. He begins down the hall to the kitchen, mind in a million directions as he decides scrambled eggs, one of the only things Louis can properly cook. 

It's ten minutes later when Harry makes his way out of the bedroom. It surprises Louis when the tall, cloudy man enters the kitchen, but Louis doesn't show it.

"How are you feeling?" He decides to ask. 

Harry makes a disapproving grunt as he leans against the opposite counter. "How do you think I fucking feel?"

Louis' cheeks redden and he tightens his grip on the pan's handle. "Sorry...I just-"

"Care, I know." Harry finishes the sentence. His voice sounds foreign to Louis, like he's speaking to a stranger with a familiar face. 

"Can we talk?"

"We're talking."

"Harry," Louis sighs before toasts pops out of the toaster. Louis remembers it took him at least 2 weeks for Harry to teach him how to keep toast from burning. "please."

"What did I do wrong?"

"What?"

"Do I have to explain myself?" Harry says as Louis meets his eyes. Their sad and worn, as if only his eyes have aged 20 years. Louis' eyebrows fold together as he sucks on his cheeks, trying not to let himself cry, "What did I do to make you say no?"

Louis' stomach twists again and he feels as if he'll be sick. He turns off the stove, transferring the eggs onto a plate with the toast. He has low hopes that it will be eaten.

"Harry-"

"Was the last 4 years worth anything to you? Planning everything down from what house we wanted to live in to the dogs fucking name. Was this some sick plan of yours? To invest me so deeply into your life only to crush every single ounce of confidence that you grew into me?" 

"Never was that-"

"You're so selfish! I worked my ass off so I could shower you with gifts- so I could get you a non-returnable engagement ring that costs a fortune! The bloody thing sits near where I sleep, just taunting me...laughing at me because it watched my failure as a boyfriend."

"Har-"

"I hate myself! You make me hate myself! I can't-"

"Will you shut the hell up?" Louis raises his voice when he spoke, slapping his hand on the table. Harry freezes, his mouth forming a perfect, thin line. "It's not your fault, Harry! It's bloody me! I'm the one with the issues, never you."

Harry straightens at that, biting his bottoms lip as his eyes become glossy. Louis can tell Harry is about to cry because his lip is quivering and his eyebrows are pressed down- something he always did before he cried. 

"I get it," Louis continues when he knows Harry's now obedient, "I'm a piece of shit and you totally hate me-"

"I never said I hated you."

"-and I'm the cause for all of your pain, but please answer me this. Why do you proceed to get drunk at my bar? I'm hurting just as much, do you think having to take care of you sobbing my name over and over makes me feel any better?! Fuck, Harry if you want to talk then lets talk!" 

Harry's cheeks redden in insecurity. He knows Louis is right, but is too aggressive to own up to it. He uncrosses his arms and shakes his head, "I...I guess I don't know how." He says quietly into the kitchen. 

Louis decides to test his boundaries and walk towards Harry, reaching up and tucking a long strand behind Harry's ear, a habit of his when he soothed him. Harry relaxes into the touch, closing his eyes. "Or maybe you're just not ready?" 

Harry looks defeated when Louis says that, hanging his head low before shaking it. "I'm not." He whispers. Louis watches as silent tears roll down Harry's cheeks and he cups Harry's jaw, wiping them with his thumb. "I don't think I am." 

"When you're ready, I'm here." Louis says, his words now as soft as Harry's. Emerald green eyes meet the blue ones and Louis' breath is taken away just as it did the first time they ever met. There is no talking between them, just deep breathing as each one tries not to cry. Louis doesn't know if Harry is going to kiss him, and he decides that he wouldn't object if he did.

Harry doesn't. He inhales deeply before pulling away from Louis' touch and walking out of the kitchen. The smaller lad watches as he collects his shoes and walks out of the front door, leaving Louis standing bare foot on the cold tiles, the scrambled eggs and toast now cold on the counter.

**

Louis spends the next 24 hours thinking. One of Louis' favorite things to do is to think. When he was a kid, he would lie in bed for hours- sometimes staring at the ceiling and sometimes with his eyes shut-thinking. 

He would think about his future, his past, his family, his friends, and anything that would come to his mind. Although, he didn't enjoy his past thinking session. 

He wasn't productive. He allowed himself to lay in bed in his dark room and just cry, something he didn't allow himself to do. It was always swallow your feelings and move on. It began with an explosion. He busted into tears in the moment where he knew he was fully alone, sobbing so hard that his stomach was sore for the rest of the day. It was the kind of cry that made you wonder if you were going to stop.

It makes him nauseated that he knows this is how Harry dealt with his emotions on a daily bases. Louis would cry once in a blue moon, but poor Harry could never keep it in. He was too much of an open book, very expressive and naive with his emotions. 

Somewhere around 4 pm, when the sun was setting and created a glow behind the closed curtains, Louis knew what he had to do to resolve their problems. 

I'll start tomorrow, he tells himself before rolling over onto his side and staring at the pile of rings left from Harry on the bed side table until he fell asleep. 

**

For the first time in 14 weeks, Louis left the club after his shift alone. And the cycle continued the next week. It felt strange, as if taking care of Harry for the past weeks had been nothing but a dream. Those Saturday nights and Sunday mornings are when we felt the apartment was it's emptiest. It made him worry. What was Harry doing?

After spending the second weekend alone, he decides to phone Harry for the first time since the break up. It's a Monday night and he's just finished his 3rd frozen meal for that week, a new record considering the week had just begun. He's sitting on his couch when his hands press on his contact.

It rings until Louis is met with Harry's voice mail. He hadn't pre-recorded anything, so Louis is forced to listen to the female robotic answering machine. He decides not to leave a message.

Louis doesn't try to contact Harry after that. 

**

On the 15th week, Harry still didn't show up to the club. It had been one of the most stressful nights he had in a while. Many of his customers were extremely rude, a few not even tipping him at all, his manager was in a terrible mood and had taken his anger out on Louis' mistakes, and the most popular beer machine was out of order to top off the horrific night. He had never been ready to take a long shower and sleep for as long as he could. 

As he leaves the club doors feeling absolutely drained. His body aches and his mind feels fuzzy. He runs a hand through his hair as he fishes his car keys from his pockets. A voice makes him stop dead in his tracks.

It's comes from behind him, deep and familiar. There's almost a breath of relief that comes from Louis because he knows it's Harry. He turns around, seeing him leaning against the wall of the club. Louis must have missed him due do his exhaustion. 

"Harry?" 

"You're crying." Harry mentions as he begins walking towards Louis. As a quick reflex, Louis reaches up and feels his damp cheek. He must have not realized it. 

"Oh," He begins, flustered and embarrassed. "S-sorry...I didn't...what are you doing here?" 

There's something different about Harry. His expression is rough and concerned as he reaches up to wipe Louis' cheek with his hand. It's a soft touch that Louis immediately leans into. He's completely unreadable under the streetlight that occasionally flickers. 

"Take me home with you, Lou." Harry begins. He's firm and dominating with his request, not in a mean or scary way, it was more comforting that Harry was taking control. Louis nods quickly and sniffs. Harry places a hand on the small of Louis' back and leads him to his car, unlocking it. "I'll drive, you just relax," He says softly into Louis' ear, helping him into the passenger seat.

Louis' soon accompanied by Harry who gets into the drivers seat. He turns on the engine and looks over at Louis before he leaves. 

"Want to tell me what those tears are for?" He asks. 

"Bad night at work," Louis replies. His voice is a few notes higher than usual. "really m-missed you. I was worried." he adds, shutting his eyes as he begins to softly sob. 

He feels big hands on his shoulders. This was the first time he's actually cried about the matter in front of Harry. Harry pulls Louis' top close to him as he hides the smaller boy into his chest. There's an awkwardness between Louis and the center console, but he decides to ignore it, the uncomfortable press into his side is worth crying into Harry's shirt.

Louis doesn't know how long he cries for, but once he's finished, he slows down his breathing and looks up at Harry, every single eyelash in view from his angle. Harry combs back his hair before leaning down, meeting Louis' lips.

Everything feels as if it were the beginning all over again. Louis will never forget their first kiss. He had met Harry at a music festival when a mutual friend invited them both to camp out with a few other mates. The two underage teenagers practically breathed the same air the entire night before Harry pulled the boy (who at the time, was the same height as Harry) close during a slow song and kissed him like the world was ending. It was slow, making the world around them stop. If time were to end, it wouldn't even bother them as two souls bonded into one. 

Louis' breathless as he climbs into Harry's lap when the heat of this kiss becomes almost too unbearable. He feels Harry's hands slide themselves under Louis' shirt and explore his skin as Louis leaves dark marks on Harry's neck. It is a matter of minutes before Harry is guiding them to the back seat where Louis screams Harry's name until the sun rises. 

**

It's 2 in the afternoon and Harry has woken to an empty bed. He sits up and yawns, running a hand through his long, tangled hair as he decides he's the happiest he has been in over 120 days. It's exhausting to be sad for so long, he thinks to himself.

He lays a hand on the spot where Louis was once sleeping and smiles to himself. He almost felt as if things were normal, like how they used to be 120 days ago. He doesn't know if things will ever return to those happy mornings, but in the mean time, he'll worry about breakfast and finding Louis.

There's a note on the night stand where Louis was sleeping beside. Harry reaches over and picks it up, examining the choppy handwriting. 

Harry, went out to market for a few things. I will be back shortly. Stay home and make yourself breakfast.

Louis.

Harry grins to himself. Home. He rereads the words over and over again before getting up and obeying the note. He prepares toast and tea before showering. It feels different than he expected. He predicted he would forget how to turn on the facet, or would forget where the silver wear drawer was, but he didn't. It was almost as if he had never left. 

His shower is so much nicer than the one he was using at the place he was staying at. It was a friend Harry had known from school with a home of walking distance to the club. He slept on a lumpy couch in a terribly kept apartment. Every time we stepped into the dusty flat, he missed how clean and homely his place with Louis' is.

He smells the clean fluffy towel that he uses to dry himself off with and it reminds him of how much he's missed the smell of fresh linen. His friend never believed in laundry and decided towels never needed to be cleaned. "We're clean anyways, what does it matter?" he'd always say.

It's nearly 2 hours later when Harry hears the door to the apartment open and close. He doesn't get up as he hear's stirring in the living room. After this morning, they didn't get to talk much. Harry agrees that both of them were absolutely too warn out to even think at the point. Now his mind is clear, sleep had nursed him back, and he is clean.

"Harry, can you come out here for a minute?" Louis' voice comes from the living room after a few minutes. Harry grins to himself as he pushes himself out of the bed, making his way down the hallway. 

The scene in front of him is breathtaking and begins to pool tears into his eyes. A hand clutches his chest as he gasps, stopping at the edge of the living room. 

Displayed in front of him is Louis dressed in a gorgeous, form fitting tuxedo. He's holding a bouquet of red roses. Louis shut the curtains so no natural light was to enter the room, the only source were the flickering of candles strategically placed around the room. Louis is grinning widely in the center of the room. 

"What-"

"Shh," Louis says as he gestures Harry to come to him. He obeys and bites his bottom lip to keep himself from smiling to wide. "I made a mistake, Harry. A stupid, stupid mistake." He pauses to set the roses down on the coffee table. "I had nothing to be afraid of when I declined your proposal, I let my fears get the best of me. I was terrified when I had you all along. You're my destiny, Harry. You're the type of person that makes forever seem too short. You deserve flowers on your doorstep and coffee in the morning. You deserve notes left on your dashboard and ice cream sundaes at 3 am. You deserve honesty every day and to be kissed every hour. You deserve to be reminded of how beautiful you are." There are tears now welding in Louis' eyes. "Let me fix my mistake the only way I know how to repair it."

With that, Louis pulls out a tiny box from his pocket and lowers his body, getting down on one knee as he opens the box revealing a gold band. 

"Will you marry me, Harry Styles?"

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! I'm a new writer to this website (originally I'm from wattpad) so I thought I would introduce myself with a one shot. Please don't be shy to reach out to me! I am still learning how this website works :)
> 
> Kathryn


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